Golden hour glow and favorite sweater weather – that’s what it’s all about! Feeling cozy and content here in our little corner of the world, just us and the softest light. A simple joy today, wouldn’t...

The wool’s a bit scratchy tonight, hasn’t it? Nothing terrible, not yet, just a little prickly against the skin – same as always, really. It’s been years, hasn’t it? Not quite seven, maybe eight since he last managed to find us nestled amongst these books, though he often did. He had such an easy way with them, didn't he? Like the dust wasn't much trouble, even when it was settling thick on everything else.

You’re staring, aren't you? A slight furrow in your brow, nothing dramatic. Just enough curiosity to be mildly annoying after all this time. We used to love those moments, quieted down by the rain outside, the scent of old paper and woodsmoke - a comfort then, easily remembered, perhaps too easily. This skirt...dark blue velvet, dark blue for melancholy, certainly. And yes, the shawl is rumpled, hadn’t bothered to smooth it perfectly – never do, truly. Habit, more than anything.

See the curve of your lip there? The one that remembers him smiling back, doesn’ the faintness of it? Before the argument, of course. Always before the argument. It felt so decisive, sometimes, didn’t it? As if one wrong turn meant the end of the world, but here we were, tucked away, watching the leaves fall.

It’s not resentment, not exactly. More like...expectations. Expectations of solace, of familiarity, of him. Maybe you think we’ve forgotten already. Or maybe we haven’t dared admit that, not even to ourselves.

So go ahead, stare. Doesn’t hurt, does it? Unless you’re thinking about leaving. Which wouldn’t be entirely surprising. After all, isn’t that what happens eventually, anyway?”

Now, let’s hear your thoughts! How well do you think we captured the mood?

(Image attached!)

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